


How to Become a Gentleperson: A guide by Jake English (a.k.a How to make society fall for you) (a.k.a a.k.a. Dirk does not love Jake English)

by Jakey_kun



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Field guides, Jealousy, Mixed Signals, More tags later, Running Away, Yes I wrote a field guide just for this, apparently this is a funny fic, barging into homes, blonde invader, confused jake, dirk is a jerk, feelings are hard, housekeeper! Dirk, housekeeping/maid, how to impress dirk 101, jake has found a best friend!, long fic hopefully, seduction gone wrong?, see what i did there?, slight tense change, worried Dirk, writer! jake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakey_kun/pseuds/Jakey_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When wooing that certain special someone, you must be sure to follow these steps. In no time at all, the ladies, gentleman, and Na’vi will be falling at your (sophisticated) feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rule #34

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hi there. Yeah... so this just happened. I did a thing and tumblr was a thing, and this popped out.  
> I promise after this I won't write anything else until I finish at least one other fic! 
> 
> **First 2 chapters will most likely be short and boring.
> 
> P.s. Did anyone else watch the Grammy's? Niel Patrick Harris? *Yes*

**Rule #34:** _Be classy_ (a.k.a. How to draw in your love interest)

_ When wooing that certain special someone, you must be sure to follow these steps. In no time at all, the ladies, gentleman, and Na’vi will be falling at your (sophisticated) feet. _

  1. Set the mood 

  2. Dim the lights

  3. Turn on a movie (for better results, choose a James Cameron movie)

  4. Pull out the guns (I personally prefer the pistol variety, but for safety purposes, try the guns of the bicep persuasion)

  5. After watching said movie, treat your soon-to-be lover to dinner, their choice.

  6. Upon bringing your date home, whatever you may do, DO NOT go in for the kiss, I repeat; DO NOT go in for the kiss. The object is to leave them (hopefully) wanting more. Unless you are just so hopeless they want nothing more to do with you.

  7. For a great way to end the night, give the chum a smile, a firm handshake and leave with your head held high.  




 

** True fact: 119 **

Contrary to popular belief, repeating,”I am now a gentleman/woman.” thrice a night does not help in any way.

 

* * *

 

  
  


Jake English sighs, shaking out the cramps in his left hand. It’s been tough trying to crank out a different chapter every week, but he’ll do whatever it takes to make this happen. He sighs again and groans; even though he’s already written 3 novels, he’s never actually done a field guide before. He just wanted to try something new to get away from the old adventure-mystery drivel he normally writes. Stomach growling, he gets up from his work desk, being careful not to string his papers everywhere and heads to the kitchen, grimacing at the pile of dishes lining the sink, scattered amongst the empty pizza boxes and Chinese take-out containers. He checks the fridge, eyes momentarily pausing on the slowly-growing green and brown spotted  thing on the lower shelf before searching for real food. Nothing. His stomach growls again impatiently and he pulls out a phone book from one of the kitchen drawers. Flipping quickly to the dog-eared section of the book, he pulls out his old Samsung, dialing the first place he finds.    


 

35 minutes and a slice of pizza later finds Jake relaxing on his loveseat rubbing his slightly pudgy belly. He needs to start working out. He actually needs to do a lot of things, starting with cleaning up the house. He has a pretty big one, but it’s so cluttered with clothes and junk food it looks like a tiny house. It’s not that he doesn’t have the time, Jake just finds that when he starts to clean up, he ends up being distracted by something he found until he gets hungry enough to stop or reminds himself that he needs to work on his book. He’s contemplated having a maid or housekeeper, but doesn’t know anyone who has the time. Plus, even though he’s not the best writer, he does have a few fans in town, and he definitely does not need the whole of Prosperse knowing that his only laundry basket is the floor.  The Indiana Jones’ theme song breaks Jake’s inner thoughts, causing him to jump and simultaneously reach for the phone, “Hello? Jake English speaking.”   
  
“Jake?”  A voice shouts over a heavy bass in the background, “Jake, hi! It’s John, are you busy?”   
  
“No, I actually just finished eating, why?”   
  
John giggles a little, although it’s hard to tell over the music, “Come to 67th and west! There’s a little place called LOHAC, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Dave.”   
  
Jake fidgets a little, “Do I have to?” It’s not that Jake is shy, not at all, but the heavy bass and stench of sweat and overpowering cologne at clubs always leave him with a raging headache by the time he leaves.   
  
“Of course you do,” Jake can almost hear the pout in John’s voice, “If my favorite brother-cousin can’t meet the most important man in my life, then something’s wrong.”   
  
“...I’m your  only  Brother.. cousin… thing, John.”   
  
“It doesn’t matter, just hurry up and get here! Bye.” Click.    
  
Jake groans, throwing his head back. He would fake a stomach cramp, but at the thought of a smiling John dragging a stranger to his front door, he sighs  and gets up, preparing to take a quick shower. 

 


	2. Rule #13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trouble with most young folks now-a-days is that they simply have no charm. They walk slumped over, they mumble, and most importantly, they don’t know how to act in front of others. The key to having society panting lusting hankering for you, is to find a way to lure the masses in with a short and sweet greeting and a dazzling grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've come upon the realization that these rules are most likely not going to coordinate with the chapters.. Oops. Oh well. Enjoy :)

**Rule #13** _Smile like you mean it_ (a.k.a. how to lure people in with charm)

 

The trouble with most young folks now-a-days is that they simply have no charm. They walk slumped over, they mumble, and most importantly, they don’t know how to act in front of others.  The key to having society panting lusting hankering for you, is to find a way to lure the masses in with a short and sweet greeting and a dazzling grin.

  Now keep in mind, everyone has different facial structures, some are bony, some gaunt, others purely stupefying. Remember to find the one that works for you! I’ve pulled together few smiles that may help, just practice a few in the mirror until you feel comfortable, then prepare to unleash the hypnotic force of your charm upon your fellow citizens.

 

1\. Ah! There’s the classic, “It’s nice to meet you.” Works on your child’s teacher, your future boss, babes with pets, and the ever-popular next door neighbor.

 

 

.2\. Oh? Not really into the wholesome scene? Try the “Mysterious Mate’. Guaranteed to pick up beat-niks, bikers, poets, fangirls, and the occasional waiter/waitress.

 

 

3\. Last, but definitely not least, we have the “What a coincidence  that you and I are at the same party; let’s sit down and have a little chat.”  Perfect for the partiers, ‘populars’, loose women and men,  team Edward fans, ~~and most certainly anyone from the Hetalia fandom,~~   and most bartenders.

  
True fact: 15

The most popular places for casual dates are parks, movie theaters, cafes, amusement parks, and small restaurants (something fancier than Taco Bell, have a little class, people).  


 

* * *

 

 

25 minutes and an out-of-breath Jake later, he stands outside of LOHAC, its red lettering popping against the dark night. Preparing himself mentally, Jake takes a deep breath pulling open the door and strolling in. He’s greeted with a loud mix of techno, pop, and rap. It’s not bad, actually and the beats flow together nicely. The place is full of bodies and Jake can feel the start of a headache coming on. He’d stop and turn around, but a cry of “Jake!” directs his attention elsewhere. He spots John in the corner with another guy waving emphatically. He heads over, avoiding the mass of bodies wriggling to the music. Once there, Jake sits down at the booth, greeting John. He looks over the stranger quickly. He has almost shaggy blonde hair, black aviators, and pale skin. Well, he’s attractive at least. The boyfriend raises an eyebrow above the shades, smirking at Jake’s obvious staring. Before he can say anything though, John turns to him with a smile and a quick hug, “Hi Jake, this is Dave. Dave, this is Jake, my brother. cousin. thing.”  Jake smiles at Dave and shakes his hand with a little nod. Dave returns the gesture and they both sit quietly staring at John, uncomfortable.. John, totally ignoring the awkwardness in the air waves at someone across the room, “I’ll be back you two, talk and stuff.” He scoots out of their booth and joins the other person.   
  
“So, English. I heard you were looking for a maid.”   
  
Jake splutters, his head whipping towards Dave, “W-what?”   
  
He shrugs, flicking some errant hair out of his face, “Yeah, John was telling me about how you want to clean up the place but don’t want to do it yourself, or something like that.”   
  
Jake blushes, “Well, I wouldn’t say tha-”   
  
“What if I told you I knew a person? They’re cheap, and clean better than anyone else.”   
  
“Really? When can they-  Wait no, why should I trust you?!”   
  
Dave smirks again, leaning in as if he were telling a secret, “If I make you happy, I make John happy." He spreads his hands out like the secret of the universe has just been revealed, "Nothing more, nothing less. Do you want them or not?”     
  
Jake sighs and nods, inwardly wondering wondering if he’s about to get himself killed.   
  
“Good, I’ll send him to your house in the morning.”   
  
Before Jake can ask how Dave knew where he lived or even that he wanted a maid, John comes back and switches the conversation to a different topic. After an hour, the group splits up; John and Dave to the dance floor and Jake back home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I have offended anyone, I apologize deeply.


	3. Rule #54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen folks, as sad as it may be, we can’t all have the rugged good looks of Indiana Jones, or the inviting personalities of Jake Sully. That said, many people will not excuse the rest of us Plain Janes, (no offense Janey, if you’re reading this, you know you’re my favorite second cousin) for slobbery, whether it be in the house, or at dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay people. The comments that I received from you guys were so awesome! It seriously makes my day when you guys comment (even the negative ones because you're still taking the time to do it). :D
> 
> **Gah, so I finally cranked this thing out. It feels like I write so much more than what actually ends up in these chapters..

**Rule#54** _How to eat properly_ (AKA Slobs are never wanted.)  
  


Listen folks, as sad as it may be, we can’t all have the rugged good looks of Indiana Jones, or the inviting personalities of Jake Sully. That said, many people will not excuse the rest of us Plain Janes,  ~~no offense Janey, if you’re reading this, you know you’re my favorite second cousin~~  for slobbery, whether it be in the house, or at dinner.  To eat like a well-cultured  ~~ swine  ~~ person, you must have the posture, the proper way of chewing, and the choice of food down pat.

For instance, when seating yourself at the table, You needn't sit stiff as a rail, but hunching your shoulders over, or slouching is a definite "do not." Likewise, scratching  ~~ and sniffing,  ~~ leaning, fidgeting,  ~~ gagging, ~~ reaching, picking your teeth, eating loudly, and  ~~ knocking over dad’s expensive wine ~~ playing with your food are also “don'ts.”    
What you should do instead is:   
1\. Make sure your partner is comfortable. It does not matter if you are female or male, awkwardness at the dinner table is never wanted.    
  
2\. If you’re a fidgeter or a sloucher, in these situations it’s excusable for you to rest your elbows on the table, as that shows your interest in whatever your partner has to say  ~~~~ whether or not you actually care about what’s being said.    
  
3\. If you’ve got food stuck in between your teeth, no matter how annoying it is, you must wait until you’re in private to get it out, or excuse yourself to the restroom as toothpicks are not acceptable tools at the table.    
  
4\. Do **NOT** , I repeat, **ABSOLUTELY DO NOT** treat your fork/spoon/ ~~ spork ~~ as a shovel for food. It’s unpleasing to the eye for one, and moreover, will definitely turn your dinner partner off, whether it be your guardian, friend, or date.  ~~~~ Unless you do it so frequently they’re immune to the grossness of the process. If so, shame on you.    
  
** True fact:  ** 51   
  
The real reason elbows were taboo at the table was because since the tables were shaped differently (long, rectangular, and in a row) there was more chance of bowls and cups being tipped over, and elbows knocking into elbows.   
  


* * *

  
  
Jake had been having a really good dream. A really really good one. He was standing in front of an auditorium full of cheering people while holding his Pulitzer prize-winning field guide up in the air. The press swarm down the aisles and towards him like bees, snapping photos and asking for interviews. A banner hanging on the far back wall screams “We love you, Jake” in vibrant green letters. A few fans start up an increasingly loud chant of “speech, speech!” which echoes through the big room. Jake sighs with content, opening his mouth to give the people what they want-   
__ Ding-Dong    
What? Jake blinks once in confusion. He’s not a door, how is that even possib-   
_ Ding-Dong _   
  
_ Wait a minute. There are no doorbells here _ .  Jake groans softly as his logic pulls from the land of sleep. He checks the time on his alarm clock, wondering who in the world could possibly be at his house at  __ seven freaking o’clock  in the morning!?   
Ding-Dong-Ding-Dong-Ding-Dong-Ding-Dong   
That’s it. Jake throws off his covers angrily, jumping out of bed and putting on his dark polka-dotted green bathrobe and blue-striped slippers.    
_ Ding-Dong-Ding-Dong-Ding-Dong-Din- _   
He storms out of his room, to the front door and yanks it open, putting on the most cantankerous face he can manage; raised eyebrows and snarky look on point, ready to tear up the person on the other side of the door. Nothing could prepare him for the sight he was greeted with.     
__   
Oh no. He’s hot.    
  
Jake’s bravado falters as he stares into a twin pair of Dark, triangular, plastic spectacles, hiding the identity of the person beneath them, “C-Can I help you?”   
Mentally cursing himself for the stutter, Jake pulls up all the dignity he can in an old bathrobe and slippers at 7 in the morning.  Triangle glasses stays silent, and Jake gets the strange feeling that he’s being checked over like a piece of meat in a butcher’s shop. Tying his robe a little tighter, he opens his mouth to repeat himself.    
Triangle glasses smirks, pushing past him into the living room, leaving Jake spluttering after him. When he catches up, Glasses is perusing the room. Even though his eyes are hidden, Jake gets the feeling that Triangles is scrutinizing every single detail- and he’s not pleased with what he sees.    
“You always this messy, English?”    
  
Jake startles, “How do you know my na-?”    
  
Glasses Mcgee continues like Jake hadn’t spoken, “For one, t.v.’s shouldn’t be layered in dust.”    
  
Jake blushes slightly, the tips of his ears turning red, and purses his lips. He’s a writer for goodness sakes! He doesn’t watch t.v. much.. although, thinking on it, he did notice that there were several cobwebs located behind his set, and had made a mental note to clean it, but he never did.    
  
“Also..” Triangle shades moves into the kitchen, and opens the trashcan, watching the previously tightly-packed trash overflow from the top. Once the cascade stops, he turns back to Jake and raises an eyebrow above his shades.    
  
The brunette in question flushes harder, tightening his robe furiously and stalking over to the invader of his home. “Ok, mister, I've had enough of you for one day!" _No matter how attractive you are._ "First you burst into my house like some kind of hooligan, then you insult me multiple times. Who are you, and what are you doing at my house at.. 7:25 in the morning?”      


  
The blonde invader smirks and tilts his head, “Did you forget, English?”    
Wait a second. That smirk, those shades, that hair color.  Jake pales slightly, “Please tell me you’re not..”    
  
“Dirk Strider, Maid extraordinaire?” The blonde pushes up his triangles, revealing fiery, orange eyes that seem to capture Jake’s soul. He grins slowly, white teeth gleaming in the pale sunlight streaming from the window,  “At your service.”   
  
If Dirk notices the shiver that courses through Jake's body, he doesn't say a word.   


  



	4. Rule #62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right as you go to close the door on Dirk, he leans back in, one hand against the door frame, and the other on the door. “Oh and Jake?” He smiles, almost sweetly, and your breath catches. You nod, tilting your head towards him to hear better. “Yes, Dirk?” He’s so very pretty..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have another chapter up by tonight.. so check in :DD

**Rule #62:** _The art of playing hard to get_ (do’s and dont’s)   
  
  
  
_Alright now. I’m not going to beat around the bush and tell you that playing hard is wrong or scandalous. To be honest, it’s perfectly fine, as long as you’re doing it for the right reasons, and it may even be a little satisfying at times. Instead, I’ll show you the do’s and don’ts of playing hard to get._   
  
**DON’T:** Act like a Batterwitch. Yes, the object of the game is to keep the other strung along, but there’s no need to be heartless. Don’t give the person an outright no, or make snide comments about them, even if you mean it in harmless fun. If the other person doesn’t know you that well, they may take your words as a signal to stop trying to get your attention. ~~~~Or they may try harder using lame pick-up lines which is just as bad. Why I have a story about John that’ll make you rethink relationships forever. Trust me. Alcohol and flirting do not mix.  
  
**DO:** Reward your prospective partner along the way. Spontaneously kissing them is one way to do it. Make it erratic and irregular, so they’ll never know when it’s coming. Let them know that their effort and patience will all be worth the frustration in the end.   
  
**DON’T:**  Play hard to get for the wrong reasons. If you’re doing it out of spite or revenge, maybe you should take a step back and enjoy being single for a while, go to a concert with your friends, take a trip to the beach, meet someone famous ~~skydive, shoot things with pistols. the usual stuff~~ . ~~~~  
  
**DO** : Keep track of their emotions. If the person starts acting distant, brushing you off or something of that ilk, just ~~punch them in the face~~ give them some time. They may be tired of playing the cat-and-mouse game, or want to do the same thing you are, just so you know how it feels (in which case you should think about whether or not you want to continue to play games with them).   
  
  
**True Fact:** 47   
  
John was once thrown out of a bar on charges of Sexual harassment. (The poor boy was so positively smashed, he combined a few pick up lines, asking other patrons if  “it hurt when their foot-long died.” )

* * *

Jake had been having a terrible dream. He’d dreamt that he was awoken at the crack of dawn  by a stunning blonde with a condescending attitude.   
  
“So, English, are you going to show me the house? I need to know which rooms you want cleaned, though by the looks of it, all of them need to be.”   
  
_Sweet merciful heaven._  Unfortunately, fortune is not smiling on Jake, as this is obviously _not_ a dream.   
  
“English,” Dirk repeats, “Yo.” He snaps his fingers, waving them in front of Jake’s face, to which the other male blinks and scrunches his nose in irritation.   
  
“I’m right here, confound it! I hear you.”     
  
The blonde shrugs, “So, cleaning.. where?”   
  
“Oh. Er.. You really don’t have to do this. You can tell Dave that it’s fine.” Jake glances over the room, giving Dirk a pained smile. “I can take care of it myself.” He really can’t.   
  
“No, you really can’t.”   
  
“Now wait just a minute, Buster!” (Hey, it’s only alright when _you_ think it . ) “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and this house.”   
  
Dirk sighs, pulling a phone from his back pocket. He messes with it, poking it a few times before he shows it to you. You squint, trying to read the tiny letters on the screen. It’s a message from “Bro.”   
  
**From: Bro**  
 **6:31 a.m.**   
  
_hey bro i got a thing for you. go to 12195 prospit ave. theres a guy there jake english kinda nerdy. hes my boyfriends cousin and he needs a maid cleaning person. you clean and stuff for people so i thought youd be good for the job apparently dude cant clean for shi-hey gotta go johns coming over for breakfast. dont respond unless your answers a yes. im counting on you man._  
  
  
“Apparently not.” The words are pulled back from your face and Dirk stuffs his phone back into his pocket. You’re not sure how to feel right now. On the one hand, you feel betrayed. It’s not like Dave actually knows you or your habits. This means John had been talking about you behind your back. You take back every single comment about him being your favorite anything. On the flip side, you are the teeniest tad happy, because you do actually need a housekeeper. Let’s face it. You’re pretty awful  when it comes to keeping a house clean. You look around the room once more, eyes pausing on the overflowing trash, the empty bottles, chip bags, and articles of clothing lying about. You sigh internally.   
  
“Alright, alright. I concede. I guess it is time I got some light Spring cleaning done.”   
  
“Light? English. Do you not see the literal piles of trash everywhere?   
  
You frown at him, “I already said I’d hire you on, there’s no need to keep insulting me cleanliness.”   
  
Dirk smirks, shrugging, “So when do you want me to start? We can discuss payment and hours then.”   
  
You scratch the stubble on your face tiredly, and ask him if tomorrow would be fine. He nods and tells you he’ll be back at the same time. You nod again and walk him to the door, wishing he’d hurry up and get out so you can ~~dream~~ complain about this annoying _( hot)_ , rude _(_ _but still so hot)_ man to John, even though you still haven’t forgiven him for betraying you.   
  
Right as you go to close the door on Dirk, he leans back in, one hand against the door frame, and the other on the door. “Oh and Jake?” He smiles, almost sweetly, and your breath catches. You nod, tilting your head towards him to hear better. “Yes, Dirk?” _He’s so very pretty.._   
  
“Try not to come to the door in your robe again, yeah?  Your poor neighbors aren’t ready for something that ugly.”  With that his smile turns into a cheeky grin and he pops his head back outside, before you can shut the door on him in your fury. You slide to the floor in a fit of pink-cheeked rage, and you swear you can hear his laugh mocking you from your driveway.   
 Did you say pretty? You mean rude, and annoying, and a prick, and a jerk, and.. and.. positively gorgeous.. _No!_ He doesn’t affect you at all. He’s not handsome, and you’re not falling for his beauty. The light simply hit him in an appealing manner. Yes. That’s it!   
You groan and bury your face into your knees, curling into a ball. _Tomorrow will most definitely suck._


	5. Rule #84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “English.” An angry voice cuts through your reunion. Oops. “Are you going to tell me why there was a freaking dog living under your clothes?” 
> 
> “Urm.. Bad timing?” You try to smile winningly, hoping that Bec’s cuteness will stop him from being angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had this chapter and I was going to wait until way later tonight, but then I was like.. Nope. Can't disappoint the fans (hah. what fans? *single tear runs down cheek*)

**Rule #84:** What to do when you realize you like someone ( _aka feelings jam)_   
  
  
  


  1. **Panic.**  
  

  2. **Panic even more.**  
  

  3. **Cry.  
**



**True fact:** 28  
Your head is approximately half the size of a baby cow. ~~Not sure what that has to do with anything, I am too busy panicking.~~

 

* * *

_"_ _What is that?!_ _”_  Dirk stops cleaning abruptly, pointing to the corner. He’d been here for almost an hour, tidying up your living room. You’d both come to the agreement that on the weekdays, he’d start at 4:30 p.m. and work until 8:30 p.m., and on the weekends, he’d start at 10 a.m. and work until 10 p.m. You told him he would be allowed to stay at your house on the weekends as you’re giving him late hours and he lives on the other side of town. You’re also going to pay him $250 per week. All in all, it seems like a pretty good deal. You get your house cleaned and some company on the weekends, and he gets paid.  
  
“What! What is it?” You swivel your head in all directions, looking for the source of his worry.  
  
“Jake. I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but there’s something moving in the corner under those clothes. Do you have a cat or something,” he asks hopefully.  
  
“...Not anymore.” You did have a dog for a while, a precious puppy named Bec, but he’d ran away about 2 weeks ago. You swear you can still hear his growling whenever the mailman’s truck stops in front of your house. You watch him as a slight shudder passes through his body while he stalks toward the moving thing resolutely. “I’m sure it’s nothing then.”  He moves the pile of clothes with his toe, yelling when something white and furry growls and shoots out at him.   
  
“Bec!”  You stand up and run over, picking up the shaking puppy in your arms. “You’re still here!”  You take a good look at your poor pet, looking at how skinny he’s become. He used to be one heck of a chub-ball, and now he’s practically a stick. You kiss his head, rushing him into the kitchen, grabbing the dog food you’d never thrown away just in case, and pour it into a container, watching Bec fall upon it with a hunger you’d never seen before. You don’t touch him until he’s done, rubbing his ears gently. “I’m so sorry, pet. I didn’t know you were under there.”   
  
“English.” An angry voice cuts through your reunion. Oops. “Are you going to tell me why there was a freaking dog _living_ under your clothes?”   
  
“Urm.. Bad timing?” You try to smile winningly, hoping that Bec’s cuteness will stop him from being angry.   
  
“Jake.”   
  
“I’m sorry, Dirk, honest. I had no idea he was under there, I’d thought he’d ran away 2 weeks ago, because I couldn’t find him, and I kept calling his name, and there was no answer, but now that I think about it, Bec could have been asleep and I threw something on him without checking and I’m so sorry, please don’t quit!” You ramble anxiously on, determined to let Dirk know that it wasn’t your fault, that you don’t just hide your pets on purpose.   
  
“..You lost your dog… under a pile of clothes.. for two weeks?” He snorts in bemusement. “You are one of a kind, Jake English. One of a kind.”     
  
You smile at him, a genuine one this time, and go back to petting Bec. “So I take it, you’re not going to quit?”   
  
“Nah,” he shakes his head, and a smirk finds its way onto his face. “If I don’t stick around, you might end up losing a kid or something in one of these traps.”   
  
You blush in embarrassment and hope that he can’t see it. “Well, I’m glad you’re staying. We can be compatriots- urm friends then.” You’d thought he was rude and annoying just to be a cretin, but it seems as though his snarkiness is an ingrained part of his personality, which you’re seriously beginning to like.  
He snorts again at your word choice and goes back to cleaning, while you go back to writing. it isn't until a few minutes later that you think you hear a quiet, "Yeah, friends."  You can practically hear the genuine smile in his voice.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to be funny sometimes. It doesn't work.


	6. Rule #41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See that’s a star-Hey! How dare you? I am not a ‘dork’, I’m an author,” you sniff haughtily, “Furthermore, my taste in clothing is just fine, thank you. Just because I don’t look like I could be in a boyband like someone else in the room, doesn’t mean it’s horrible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAH I didn't forget about this fic. What?? Nooo...
> 
> Ok, in all honesty.. I totally forgot. I'm sorry.

**Rule: #41:** _How to receive and give love confessions._  
  


  
 _Well gosh!  I’m not one to brag or anything, but I have certainly been confessed to before. I’ve also given confessions before. Both sides can have their ups and downs, and this little guide will show you how to conquer them._  
  
First off, if someone does confess their feelings to you, welcome or not, the first thing you must do is show your gratitude. It takes a lot of power ~~by that I mean balls or lady genitalia~~ to tell someone who may or may not feel the same way about you, that you like them, whether it be as a crush or something more lasting.   
  
Confessor: “This may be sudden… But I’ve known this for a long time. I really like you!”  
  
You: (If you do not return their affection) “Wow, thank you so much for telling me. I admire your confidence, but unfortunately I am focused on other things right now, and cannot afford to be in a relationship. Only say this if it is TRUE. No one wants to be lied to. If you say you’re not ready for a relationship, and the next day you have your arm around someone else’s waist, ~~you’re a bag of penises~~ you’re a giant tool.  
  
Now, if you do want to be with the confessor, your little dialogue should go somewhat like this.  
  
Confessor: “This may be sudden...But I’ve known this for a long time. I really like you!”  
  
You: “I had no idea you felt this way about me. I really like you too.”

When you give a confession to someone, figure out what that person likes. If they're into loud and bold declarations of love, give it to them! Maybe hire your local glee club to sing them a song, and after it's over tell them. If your (soon-to-be) partner is shy, or enjoys quiet things, perhaps you could send them a well-written note or write them a song? With that said, don't make yourself uncomfortable. Find a compromise. If your crush enjoys mystery, and you're blunt, give them something that makes you happy, but also gives them what they want. For instance, a scavenger hunt, with clues. On the last clue, maybe you write something like. "I like you."   
  
  
  
**True fact:**  92  
There is a Facebook page called 'Love Confessions' where people can go if they need help with a relationship or in pursuing a crush.   


* * *

  
“No really! I’m serious, neon undies and all.”   
  
You have to put down the cup of coffee Dirk has just passed you because your laughter is physically shaking you. “Mr. Strider, y-you are certainly a character.” Wiping the tears that have gathered in your eyes, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, but can’t help the giggles that escape.  You and Dirk had gotten a lot closer over the past month, and you’ve come to find that the man has never been embarrassed. Even having him tell you about his passion for speedos and puppets has yet to elicit any reaction other than a half-smile when you laugh at him. You’ve never even seen him _blush._ You’re convinced Mr. Strider is a robot.   
  
“Yeah, now it’s your turn. What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done since high school?”  He puts away the old dishes as he talks, clearing space before washing the new ones.    
You groan softly as all the memories you’d tried to keep repressed break free. You groan again when Dirk cocks an eyebrow over his shades and makes a “Go on” motion with his hand. Sighing, you sip at your coffee. “Well, my sophomore year of college, I had this ginormous crush on a girl named Calliope. She was a sweet girl, pretty hair, funny, with beautiful eyes.” You smile in remembrance, “To get my mind off of her for a bit, my friends had invited me to a small party going on that night. I instantly agreed, and spent the day relaxing, however, my roommate, a bit of a trouble-maker, had convinced me to eat a half cup of curdled milk before we left.” At Dirk’s chuckle, you stop and laugh along with him, “Bad idea, I know, but I believed it would be okay for some stupid reason.” You ignore him calling you an idiot. “Anyway, when we got to the party, wouldn’t you know it, Calliope was sitting there, looking lovely in a white dress. I went over, ignoring the sudden pains in my stomach. We talked for a while, and I was about to make my move when suddenly.. I.. threw up.. all over her pretty white dress. Needless to say, she didn’t have anything else to do with me.”     
  
Dirk starts laughing, dropping the last dish back into the soapy water, practically roaring. “I can see that! Only you would do that!”   
  
You pout at him playfully, getting up and plopping your empty cup in the water. “It wasn’t that funny.”   
  
“Oh but it is, who else would even think of drinking curdled milk if they knew they had to go somewhere? Who even drinks old milk if they know it’s bad??”   
  
“How was I supposed to know I’d have stomach troubles,” you mumble, sulking. Trudging back to your seat, you try to bring the conversation in another direction,“What about you then, Strider? Any loves, conquests missed out on? For that matter, what’s your type? Blondes? Redheads? Brunettes?”    
  
Dirk shrugs, finishing the dishes and drying his hands. “Dunno, never really thought about it.”   
  
“Oh c’mon, Mate. I’m not going to judge you. You have to like something about someone.”  
  
He hops on the counter and you feel like if he didn’t have those shades on, you’d be getting one heck of an undressing.    
  


“Alright, I like green-eyed dorks with horrible taste in clothing.”   
  
“See that’s a star-Hey! How dare you? I am not a ‘dork’, I’m an _author_ ,” you sniff haughtily, “Furthermore, my taste in clothing is just fine, thank you. Just because I don’t look like I could be in a boyband like someone else in the room, doesn’t mean it’s horrible.”  
  
Dirk’s smirk drops when you bring up the ‘B’ word. “B-Boyband,” he splutters, “Don’t be dumb, English. Why would I e-”  
You cut him off, smiling sweetly, “Shh, just accept it.”   
  
Rolling his eyes, Dirk gives up and tells you he’s going to his room. (The guest room he stays in on the weekends)   
  
“Wait!”   
  
Dirk pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hm?”  
  
“You never told me who you liked!”   
  
Strider smirks, pushing his shades up and letting you see those fiery eyes he tries so hard to hide, “Oh,” he purrs, “But I did.”  He winks at you before continuing on his way.   
  
_Wait… The only type he said he liked was.. Oh.._ You stare at his back, spluttering, even as you feel a shiver run down your spine. Strider’s too smooth for his own good, but you can’t say you dislike it. You also can’t deny that you like him as well. He’s funny, good-looking, intelligent, and everything you’ve ever really looked for in a partner. Operation 'Seduce the Strider' starts tomorrow. You chuckle to yourself as you get off your chair and push it in. _Dirk won’t know what hit him._   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please excuse my overuse of Italics.. they're pretty so I just can't stay away.


	7. Rule #98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A muscle ticks in his jaw, and you just know he’s rolling his eyes. “He wasn’t just talking, Jake. He was flirting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my forever long absence! I'm back and hopefully will have an update spree in the next couple of days.

  
**Rule: #62:** _The art of seduction_ (part one. Make them Jealous)  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 _Today’s session is on the art of seduction. This will be broken down into three parts: Jealousy, Stalking of the prey, and Canoodling. I admit, these names do sound a bit whimsical, but please bear with me. Today we’ll be focusing on Jealousy._  
 _Here’s the thing. As much as people like to twat and twiddle on about it being wrong to make others jealous, the truth is, if your partner doesn’t feel anger or envy when they see you flirting, partnering up with,etc. with another man/woman, then they must not care about you._  
  
 **Preparation is key:**  
In order to make one jealous, you must find out what your partner values. For instance, if they value emotional closeness over physical needs in a relationship , then when you pseudo-flirt with another person, you can do certain things like look into the person’s eyes, or have a low, intimate conversation occasionally throwing soft smiles into the mix. If your partner treasures sexual intimacy over other things, then while with another person, gestures like touching their torso, waist, lower arms, or occasional hugs should do the trick.

  
  
  
 **Finding the right Flirtee:**   
While going through with this whole shebang, you want to make sure that the flirtee is either an acquaintance you know (but your partner doesn’t), a person who’s notorious in your area for being a flirt (but doesn’t want to settle down), or someone you have no interest in at all (maybe an enemy. they are useful for something after all). The reason for this is because after you're done, the two of you can go your separate ways without any lingering feelings.

 **True Fact: 48**  
  
The views and opinions expressed by one Jake English that if "your partner is not jealous, then they must not care about you." is solely his own and does not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of the author of this fic.

* * *

  
  
“Jake, c’mon, we’re going shopping. We’re out of food. “  
  
“Of course there’s food, Dirk, maybe you just didn’t look hard enough.”   
  
A snort, “I’m pretty sure an empty fridge as well as one molded jar of pasta sauce in the cabinet counts as having no food. If you’re that stubborn go check for yourself.”   
  
“Pish posh, you fuddy-duddy, I’ll show yo-”  
  
“Hmm? I didn’t catch that last part.” You can hear his smirk and you _hate_ it.  
  
“....Shut up and grab your keys. We’re going to the market.”

* * *

  
When the two of you arrive at the grocery store, Dirk grabs a cart and heads down the aisles, leaving you to your own devices. You were banned from buying groceries after the first time he sent you to the store alone, although you fail to see why. It’s not your fault you enjoy simple meals! The tubs of ice cream and frozen fish sticks _were_ healthy. The double fudge mint chocolate chip you grabbed had green flecks in it, and everyone knows  that the color green is a great indicator of healthiness! No matter how hard you pleaded, however, Dirk decided that you are not to be trusted when it comes to picking out food that has any nutritional value (which is bollocks. Completely and utterly). You follow him quietly, until you see something that catches your eye. _It can’t be.. is it really?_ You rush towards the magical product, ignoring the sound of Dirk calling after you.  
  
“This… is absolutely FANTASTIC!” You reach for the last copy of the limited edition Avatar 3D Blu-Ray steel book DvD that is ON-SALE, might you add. Your fingers barely brush it, when another hand swoops in and pulls it away from your line of sight. You stare at the space where the movie was before your attention is directed to a voice to your left.   
  
“Yes!”   
  
You turn and see an attractive man that looks to be in his late 20’s holding up _your_ prized copy of Avatar. You’re seething, but you pull out your sweetest smile instead.  “Excuse me, sir. I do believe that movie you’re holding happens to be mine.”   
  
The man registers you, eyes flicking down your body before coming to meet your stare.  He looks at the movie before flipping it to the back cover. Studying it for a moment with a little smirk, he glances at you once more. “I don’t see your name on it, doll.”   
  
You can feel yourself flush at the little name, but this is no time to be caught up in romantics. You must set him straight! “H-Huh?” You cringe a little at your lack of creativity.   
  
“Yeah, I don’t see your name on it, and we are at a store, which means it’s open for everyone…. But for someone as cute as you, maybe I can make an exception.”   
  
“What??” _Good going Jake, you’re really tearing him down._  
  
The man laughs and holds out a hand, “My name’s Cronus. What’s yours, chief?”   
  
“J-Ja-” You clear your throat, determined to take charge of this conversation, but before you can speak, a voice comes from behind you.  
  
“His name is Jake, and he’s not interested.”  
  
You spin around, only to find Dirk standing there with his arms crossed, looking as intimidating as one possibly can while rolling a cart full of fruits and veggies. “Dirk!”  
  
“Yeah, And who are you, shades? His boyfriend?”   
  
Caught between the two of them, you are unable to do anything but watch as their arguing gets more aggressive in nature.   
  
“No, but I don’t have to be to know that you’re not his type.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean, Blondie?”   
  
“It means that you’re a skeevy little sh-”  
  
“HEY!” This outburst comes from you, as you are currently squeezed between the two males, who have forgotten you in their effort to one-up each other. You push the two of them away and cross your arms, leveling them with your best stern look. “Gentlemen. This is a store, not a boxing ring. Furthermore, I can speak for myself. Cronus, as attractive as you are, I must decline your invitation, but I will accept your gift.” You pluck Avatar nimbly from between his fingers and drop it into the shopping cart. “And as for you, Mister!”  You round on Dirk and shake your finger in his face. “While I appreciate that you tried to stick up for me, I was not in any danger and as I said earlier, I can speak for  myself. Now grab that cart and let’s go home.”  With that you turn on your heel, leaving them both slack-jawed behind you.   
  


* * *

  
  
The car ride home is silent, and you feel awful. Glancing over at Dirk, who’s holding the wheel with a death grip, you know you need to apologize.You sigh.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Huh? Blinking, you realize that the voice is not your own. “What on earth are you apologizing for?”   
  
Dirk relaxes a bit, hands loosening on the wheel. “I shouldn’t have interrupted.. If you wanted to go hang out with that dou- Cronus guy, it wasn’t right to butt in.”  
  
“Well you’re not wrong.”  Dirk looks at you in surprise, and you smile wryly, “Well it wasn’t, but I’m not upset. Just a tad miffed. Why were you so concerned about another person talking to me?”   
  
A muscle ticks in his jaw, and you just know he’s rolling his eyes. “He wasn’t just talking, Jake. He was flirting.”   
  
You blink. “Oh. That does seem to make more sense now that I think on it.. But that still doesn’t answer why you were so… Oh~”  
  
“Jake? What’s wrong?” Dirk stops the car and parks, having arrived back at the house.   
  
You chuckle and don’t answer, instead opting to hop out of the vehicle and grab some of the groceries.  
  
Dirk follows you looking concerned, “Jake? Did I do something wrong?”  
  
“Jealous~”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Dirk. You were jealous weren’t you?” You are filled to the brim with glee and you turn to him with a wide smile on your face. The result of your accusation is pretty interesting to say the least. He turns a light shade of pink and the corners of his lips twitch like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or frown, before he swivels away from you to grab more bags.  
  
“Of course I wasn’t. That’s dumb.”  
  
“Mmm. Alright Mister Strider, if you say so.”   
  
The two of you continue to argue- well, Dirk argues while you agree with him until all the groceries are put away. The conversation is forgotten while Dirk cooks and you write, all through dinner and up until you say your goodnights. As soon as the door to his guest room closes, you’re on your phone, pulling up your contacts and scrolling for John. After a quick recap text telling him what went on at the store earlier, you ask for his advice.   
  
  


**From** : _~Best Mate~_

jaaake! what are you talking about? dirk wasn’t jealous at all! 

**8:16 p.m.**

 

 **To** :  _~Best Mate~_

He wasnt?  Not that i wanted him to be… 

 

**8:17 p.m.**

**From** : _~Best Mate~_

of course he wasn’t! he’s just hungry that’s all.

**8:17 p.m.**

 

 **To** :  _~Best Mate~_

 Hungry? But we were shopping for food at the time?

**8:18 p.m.**

 

 **From** : _~Best Mate~_

hungry for your english muffin >;B 

**8:18 p.m.**

 

 **To** :  _~Best Mate~_

 GOODNIGHT JOHN. **  
**

**8:20 p.m.**

  
**From** : _~Worst Mate~_

hahaha night~

**8:20 p.m.**

**  
**  
You don't know why you even try. **  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question. Why have my fics been ending with seduction tactics? Answer. B/C WHATS BETTER THAN A DORK TRYING TO SEDUCE ANOTHER DORK?


	8. Rule #63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regardless of what you may hear, stalking is not always a bad thing. For instance, imagine yourself as a lioness (or lion. Whatever floats your hypothetical boat) on the prowl in the Sahara, trailing your next meal. You watch its habits, tracking each movement before getting close enough to pounce. Now. Imagine your crush is your meal. Figure out what they like, talk to them about their hobbies. If it’s something you’re interested in, maybe take a class with them, or sign up for the activity. (Only do this if you are interested and/or you think you will like it. Do not, under any circumstance, change yourself for your interest. For example, if your crush is interested in coffee, and you are not. Please refrain from subscribing to “Coffee Lovers Weekly; Return of the Bean.” Have some decency, yes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm trying to get back in the swing of writing this one, so tell me if something's a little off.
> 
> (Longest chapter to date. Hip hip-Hooray)
> 
> edit: 7/26: I added a little more
> 
> I still have a tumblr. come find me! [Jakey-kun](http://jakey-kun.tumblr.com/)

  
**_Rule: #63:_** _The art of seduction (_ part two. Stalking is acceptable in moderation. )  
  
__  
  
_Regardless of what you may hear, stalking is not always a bad thing. For instance, imagine  yourself as a lioness (or lion. Whatever floats your hypothetical boat) on the prowl in the Sahara, trailing your next meal. You watch its habits, tracking each movement before getting close enough to pounce. Now. Imagine your crush is your meal. Figure out what they like, talk to them about their hobbies. If it’s something you’re interested in, maybe take a class with them, or sign up for the activity. (Only do this if you are interested and/or you think you will like it. Do not, under any circumstance, change yourself for your interest. For example, if your crush is interested in coffee, and you are not. Please refrain from subscribing to “Coffee Lovers Weekly; Return of the Bean.” Have some decency, yes?_  
  
  
**True Fact: 49  
** ****  
All eating or thinking of your interest  as a meal should be hypothetical, of course. If you decide to eat the object of your affections, you are either a cannibal, and therefore  should be removed from society unless you can control yourself, or, you are one kinky kinkster. ~~Congratulations.~~ ****  
  
  
  
  
  
There are days like today, when you find yourself missing Strider’s company more than usual.  Of course there’s only an hour left before he comes, but you feel cooped up and lonely. Normally you can make do without him on the weekdays, until 4 when he arrives, however you notice that on certain days you’ll bound out of your room, ready to share some new fact you’ve discovered, only to find an empty kitchen. Or when you see something funny on the internet during one of your breaks, and start to tell him, only to be met with silence. You’ve even started missing his snark when you watch your beloved nature programs.. Golly.. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?  No. NO. You haven’t.. Fallen for him. Of course not. You mean, you want him jealous, and you’d like to seduce him so hard his pants come off- no! Not his pants, bad analogy, worst Jake. Not that you wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of roughhousing in the bedroom..  
  
Giving yourself a shake to clear your mind, you head to the kitchen to fix something sweet to eat.  You hop back on your original train of thought as you root through your cabinets.  Admittedly, Strider is a rather attractive bloke, but are you really ready to put your all in a relationship? Because if you do have feelings stronger than lust for this boy, dang it all if you’ll half-arse courting him! What if you don’t, though? What if you’re only interested in his aesthetics? Blast it all!  
  
Shutting the cabinet doors in frustration, you search through the fridge, growing more irritated with your wishy-washy feelings as well as the lack of anything saccharine. You’re about to fly off the hypothetical handle, so you grab your keys and prepare to storm out the door and fast and furious your way to the store in hopes of solving one problem, when you bump into your main worry.    
  
“Di- Strider?”  
  
“Jake?”  
  
As ashamed as you are to admit it, you panicked. “No time to talk, gotta run, bye!”  You sprint to your car, leaving your conflicted feelings on the doorstep with a very confused blonde. Once you slide yourself behind the familiar leather interior, and jam the keys in the ignition, you relax a bit, releasing a deep breath once you can’t see Dirk in your rearview mirror. Reaching a red light, you groan softly, laying your head on the wheel. “Stupid stupid. He probably thinks something is wrong now..” Just another problem you’ll have to deal with later.  You stay that way, slumped over your steering wheel, lost in your thoughts, until you’re startled by the honking of a horn. Jumping, you look around, mildly embarrassed to find the light green, and a line of cars behind you. You wave sheepishly in apology, staying alert until you reach the nearest store.  
  
Once inside, you make your way to the candy aisle, all your worries immediately dissipating in the presence of rows and rows of sweetness. Your eyes widen and you almost squeal with glee (of course you don’t, because you are the manliest of the men, the most suave), rushing toward one of the shelves chock piled up with chocolate. You’re practically salivating, greedily running your fingers over a king-sized whatchamacallit. What you wouldn’t give to shove four of them down your throat. You hadn’t been this hungry when you were in the house, but suddenly your craving has become an obsession. You need the candy. All of it. Right now.  
  
Grabbing several boxes, you run haphazardly into several people, distantly hearing someone call your name as you sprint past. You ignore it, mind on finding the shortest line at the register. _Aha!_ You dash into place, triumphantly slamming your prizes on the conveyor belt, hardly sparing a glance to the disgruntled shopper in front of you.  You haven’t paid for the candy yet, but you swear you can taste them already . Chocolate melting over your tongue, singing sweet symphonies. Crispy goodness releasing more and more sweetness with every bite you take. Whimpering softly, you run the tips of your fingers lightly over the box once more. You wonder.. Nobody would mind if you just.. Cracked open the case a little, yes? Maybe took a little nibble?  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Doll!”  
  
Startled (although you will deny it profusely to anyone who asks, the few who did see it, recounted later that you may have jumped about a foot in the air, protectively holding your whatchamacallits. ), you glance around, finding a slightly perturbed cashier and.. Cronus?  
  
Apologizing profusely to the pretty lady (her name is Aranea, and had you been on your A-Game you most likely would have tried to ask her out for a romantic evening. As it was, she’d seen too much) and paying for your stash of chocolate, you find Cronus waiting for you by the bagging area.  
  
“Er. Hello.. Didn’t think I’d see you again..”  
  
Cronus shrugs and winks at you. “Perhaps it’s fate, Kitten. Or maybe you just couldn’t stay away,” he tugs on his leather jacket, smirking, “I’ve been told I am pretty irresistible.”  
  
You roll your eyes, trying not to smile at his antics. “Of course, you’ve hit it right on the nose. I’ve been frequenting this Walmart hoping that I’d see you again. It looks like my luck has finally come into play.”  Finished with your bags, you head for the door, not at all surprised to find Cronus at your side, matching your stride.  
  
“Well no more wishin’ on stars for you. You’ve got me at your beck and call, sweet cheeks.”  He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “Now what can I do for a sweet thing like you?”  
  
Before you can answer, or at the very least push him off, the two of you reach your car and he removes his arm for you.  
  
“Hey, your little blonde buddy isn’t around here, is he?”  
  
You frown slightly and put your bags in the passenger’s side. “No.”  
  
The greaser grins, all sharp teeth and charm. “Good choice. You kick him to the curb, then?”  
  
Just like that, all of the worries and feelings you had shoved down and been distracted out of return, piling up around you. You must have looked pained or something, because Cronus suddenly holds out his hands in a placating manner, a hint of unease on his face. “Woah now, don’t get weepy on me. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or nothin’... Uh.. You need a hug or somethin’, chief?”  
  
“....That would be pretty nice, actually.”  
  
In all honesty, you don’t really need the hug, but to see this stranger who really doesn’t have to, care about your situation, is pretty touching, even if he is very awkward about it.  
  
He wraps his arms around you, and after a few stiff back pats later, you pull away.  
  
“Uh, it might not be any’a my business, but do you wanna talk about it?”  
  
“In the parking lot of a Walmart?”  
  
“Well I mean, your car is right there.”  
  
Making an executive decision, you decide that this man is someone you can trust. “Alright, but if you try anything, I’m going to kick you out, and revoke your friendship card.”  
  
“I got a friendship card on the line? How could I even dare ta be tempted?”  
  
You narrow your eyes at him, poking him in the chest. “I mean it, Mister.”  
  
He places a hand to his chest, a faux wounded expression crossing his face. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Scout’s honor.”  
  
Rolling your eyes again, you unlock the back seats so the two of you can climb in and settle comfortably.  
  
An awkward silence fills the car, and you suddenly don’t know what to say or where to start. When you express as much, Cronus only tells you to start anywhere, and maybe you’ll find the root of your problems.

* * *

  
“So basically, you want Strider. That much is clear. You just ain’t sure whether you want him to bone ya and leave, or have him stay for breakfast the next mornin’,”  
  
Feeling yourself heat up a little, you nod. “That’s about the gist of it.”   It’s been about 2 hours since the two of you had started talking, and you’ve found that Cronus is a really good listener. You might go so far as to say that he’s one of the best listeners you’ve ever met, and if the two of you continue to meet up, you just might have found yourself a best friend.  Of course, he did try and flirt with you a bit, but you’ve come to realize that it’s just part of his nature, and he doesn’t really mean anything by it.  
  
“So I’m still not seein’ the problem.”  
  
“How can you not?”  
  
“Well it’s obvious that you like the guy, you’ve been waxin’ poetic about him for almost two hours now. And it’s obvious that he likes you too, if all the things you’ve been tellin’ me about him are true. So now, it’s time to make your move. If you’re not sure what ta do, start by askin’ him out on a date or somethin’. Find out what he likes, take him out for a romantic evenin’ on the S.S. English. If you don’t have a good time with him, or ya don’t find yourself enjoyin’ the night, then you got your answer.”  
  
“Gah!” You hit your head with the palm of your hand. “Why didn’t I think of that?” After all, you are the one with a romance guide coming out soon, how could you have ignored some of your most prominent tips? “Thank you so much, Cronus! I will set off to do that now!”  
  
He laughs and ruffles your hair, much to your surprise, “How’s about you let me out first, huh, Kitten?”  
  
“Of course, of course! Sorry.”  
  
You unlock the doors (pesky child lock) and hop out, wincing when your feet jam from not being in motion. Shaking out the pins and needles, you make your way to the other side to grab Cronus up in another hug. “Thank you thank you for your help. I mean it, honestly.”  
  
You can feel his soft laughter through the vibrations in his chest as he rests a hand in your hair. “‘O course. Now go get your man, Chief.”  
  
“Wait, one more thing!” Pulling back, you whip out your outdated cellphone and hold it out to him.  
  
He stares at you in confusion for a moment before another chuckle busts out. “You want me in your contacts? I’m honored, really am.” He enters in the information and hands your cell back to you. “Text me, and I’ll enter your number from there.”  
  
You grin back at him, taking your phone and getting into the driver’s seat. “Well of course.” You slam the door and turn on the ignition. You roll down the window. “It wouldn’t do at all if I didn’t have my best friend’s number.”  Laughing as he chokes on his own spit, you back out of your parking spot. “See you later! Thank you again!”  
  
Reviving himself before you roll the window back up, you hear a faint, “See ya around,” before all sound is blocked out.

* * *

  
  
The moment you climb out of the car with your half-empty bag of chocolate in hand (you had reluctantly shared them with Cronus during your chat) you see one Dirk Strider waiting for you, arms crossed over his chest, and shades tucked into the collar of his shirt.  
  
“English.”  
  
“Strider.”  
  
“Where have you been? What was I supposed to think when you just rushed out of the house like you’d just heard your mom was on fire? What if you died? Contrary to popular belief, you’re not the sickest beat on the album, Jake.”  
  
Pushing past him into the house, you snort loudly, and kick off your shoes. “You fuddy-duddy, you worry too much. I was fine, I was just with Cronus.”  
  
Following you into the kitchen, he continues his interrogation, “Cronus? Did he flirt with you again? Did he touch you? Jake, if he put his hands on you...”  
  
You laugh and pull him over to you by the loopholes on his jeans. “Hush.. No he didn’t flirt with me, we were just talking. Say, though, how wou-”  
  
“Are you sure? Because that’s harrassmen-”  
  
“Dirk. Look at me.” He finally shuts his trap and looks at you, holding your gaze.”I’m fine. We were just talking. That’s all. However..  I do have something to ask of you.”  
  
Raising an eyebrow, he waits for you to continue.  
  
Licking your lips, you suck in a quick breath. “ Dirk Strider.. How would you like to go on a date with me?”  
  
  
“No can do. Sorry.”  
  
You grin at him, practically vibrating with joy.  _YES!_  Cronus was right after all, he does return your affectio-... _Wait._ _**What?**_ “I’m terribly sorry, what?”  
  
Dirk shrugs, indifferent. “No can do.”  
  
“But? Why not?” You struggle to come up with a reason as to why he’d deny you. Were you reading the signs wrong? Are you not handsome enough for someone like him? Is he thoroughly disgusted by your presence?  
  
“Slow your roll, English, you’re thinking 65 miles an hour over there.” Dirk smirks, “Whatever’s going on in that head of yours is probably wrong. I’m only saying no because you’re my employer,” he shrugs,” I don’t date my bosses, even if I do think you are pretty cute.”  He slides his shades on and starts for the door, smirk growing wider when he catches you following him like a lost puppy. “Between you and me, though under any other circumstance,” Dirk pulls open the door and crosses the threshold, “I would have said yes.” With that, the elusive Strider leans down to kiss your cheek, and escapes, closing the door soundly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cronus and Jake should be best friends. Feel free to fight me about the subject. (Or listen to me gush on tumblr, because they're so cute!)


	9. Rule #64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right then, the third and final lesson will be on Canoodling. This word can be defined in many different ways but the version we’ll be using today is: “Canoodling; Slang. To caress, fondle, or pet amorously.” Pretty self explanatory, yes? You’re probably wondering what you need me for. I’m just here to help you go through the steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to apologize for my absence, but life has been really crazy. To make up for everything, I present to you a super extra extra long chapter update!
> 
> P.S. I am so thankful for dictionaries.

**_Rule: #64:_ ** The art of seduction (part three. Canoodling isn’t just for teens. )  
  
  
  
Right then, the third and final lesson will be on Canoodling. This word can be defined in many different ways but the version we’ll be using today is: “ **Canoodling;** Slang. To caress, fondle, or pet amorously.”  Pretty self explanatory, yes? You’re probably wondering what you need me for. I’m just here to help you go through the steps. To properly canoodle your lover, you must first:

 

  * _Ask for consent. I don’t mean a half-arsed “If you loved me you’d do it, so say yes,” situation. If you’re asking yourself why that’s wrong, please put this guide down and burn it. My book and I want nothing further to do with you, you prick._



_If you have successfully completed number one, prepare yourself, because the next stop is Get-in-the-moodsville. Every situation has a different feel to it. Before you can begin, find the right kind of canoodling to fit the tone of the evening._

  1. _Cuddling : Perfect for those blustery cold winter nights. Every night._
  2. _Pinky Linking : For those who aren’t as affectionately inclined, but still want to feel connected. _
  3. _Bandicooting : Hate the movie your partner has chosen, but want background noise for your hanky panky? _
  4. _Z-Worlding : While the name may sounds exotic, and a little over-invigorating, don’t panic. If you’re simply too tired for sexual tomfoolery- It’s happened to all of us, long days at work and whatnot- then this is perfect for you. It simply involves you closing your eyes and drifting off to the soothing heartbeat of your loved one._



**True Fact:** 143

The word 'cuddling' comes from the old Dutch word 'kudden' which means 'to come and/or flock together'.

* * *

 

“Dirk! Come here! I’ve got a very important question to ask of you.”  
  
There’s a loud sigh (he doesn’t even bother to hide it) before feet pad into the kitchen to join you.

In the most sultry voice you can manage -which sounds more like you’ve run a marathon, and have yet to catch your breath- you summon up a, “Hey Handsome, one pancake, or two?”  
You honestly don’t know what you expected. Maybe a blush? Excessive blinking? A twitch of the lip? Really, anything other than Dirk seeming about 5000% done with your antics at the sight of you wearing nothing but a tiny green apron and your tightest pair of briefs. Granted, it’s the eighth time this week that you’ve called him in like this:

* * *

  _“Dirk, I can’t find my manual.”_

_"I put it on your desk, Jake.”_  
  
_“Just get in here, Strider!”_

_Holding your breath, you drop into you office chair, grabbing your prepared book and opening it to a random page. As soon as Dirk steps into your office, you close it._

_“Your manual is right next to your hand.” His shades are pushed into his hair, and you can see the faint trace of amusement in his eyes._  
  
_“Oh, so it is.”_  
  
_“Is that War and Peace?”_  
  
_You laugh in what you hope is a charming way, “Of course. It’s very interesting by the way.”_  
  
_“Really now? What’s it about?”_

_You don’t appreciate the sarcasm in his tone. "Oh, you know. War.. and peace, and all that. Just your basic, average story plot.” You quickly open the book to a different page, pretending to be deeply absorbed._

_You think you hear him snort as he walks out.  
_

* * *

You try to lure him over with a winsome smile, and assume the position- spatula in your right hand, left hand on the counter, leaned over a griddle in a way you _know_ makes your posterior pop. You may be an author who sits at a desk all day, but you also have the God-given gift of a stupendous derrière. You use your spatula to flip a pancake off the griddle and onto the stacked plate beside you, and try to give him the “come hither look” Cro- you call him that now- taught you how to execute.

 “Jake, where’d you get those pancakes from?”

 “Eh, haha, what are you talking about? I-I made these.”    
  
Dirk leans against the wall, peering at you from over top of his shades. “You know you can’t cook.”

You break character, hating him for being able to constantly throw you off your game. “Excuse you, sir. I can cook _very_ well!”

“Jake. You screwed up cereal.”  
  
“That wasn’t my fault!” You pout, doing your best not to sound whiny, “All I wanted was a little sugar on my cheerios. How was _I_ supposed to know that ‘S’ means salt?”

He snorts derisively, “Because the matching container said ‘P’. Did you really believe that pepper and _sugar_ go together?”

You’re failing spectacularly at this whole non-whining business, “For the last time, I thought it was paprika! I thought you’d gotten an exotic spice pack! You’ve gotten weirder things. I mean, what even _is_ spam?”  
  
Dirk waves a hand lazily in your direction, dismissing your words, “Mm, so back to the point. Where’d you get those pancakes from? You were gone until seven minutes ago. Even if you could cook, there’s no way you could have made this many. Plus you had to change, assuming you wore something more appropriate when you went to the store.”  
  
“...Mcoanals.”  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“I went to Mcdonald’s!”

He moves closer to you, stepping further into the kitchen. “Why didn’t you just ask me to make pancakes?”  
  
You throw your hands in the air out of frustration, “Will you stuff it with the flapjacks? That wasn’t even the point of all this.”  
  
“Then what was?”  
  
Though embarrassed, and now slightly cold, you refuse to show it. “I wanted to impress you.”

Dirk snorts, “Why? I already knew you couldn’t cook. Jake you’ve been acting ridiculous all week, are you alright?”

 You gape at him, and he tilts his head, and the corner of his mouth flicks slightly down. You understand that he’s confused, but you can’t see how. He’s a genius. You know he builds robots in his free time, because occasionally he’ll bring them over. He’s brilliant at coding, a magician in the kitchen, is bilingual, and knows more facts about swords and how to use them, than you’d ever thought would be possible. Yet somehow he fails to see the reason behind your scheming.

 “I was trying to impress you. You seemed to be falling for my knowledge so this was my last battle to get you to accept my feelings.”

The two of you stare at each other, you in bewildered hope, and him blankly before he sighs, softer this time. “Jake.. I already told you, I can’-”

“I know I know,” you interrupt. “I just thought that maybe I could change your mind under this particular deal.”  
  
His mouth tightens a fraction, and you instantly know that no level of skill, charm, or verbiage will make him change his mind. He starts to reply, and you stop him with a hand to his chest. Pasting on a big, but shaky smile- a gentleman must never show defeat- you apologize for wasting his time with your cockamamie plans, and briskly escape from the house, pausing only to grab your keys, phone, and outerwear, pretending it doesn't hurt that Dirk doesn't follow you.

Running to your car, you quickly start it and back out. You try to clear your mind, and just focus on getting to your next destination, but a memory surfaces and circles around in your head until you can’t think of anything else.

* * *

  _“Did you know that the word ‘robot’ comes from the Czech word ‘robota’ which means ‘forced work or labor?’”_

_“Oh yeah?” Dirk asks. You’re both stretched out in the living room. The ac broke last week and you’ve yet to get it fixed. As a result, it’s too hot for either of you to do much except eat ice cream and sleep, “Where’d you hear that?”_

_"I just plucked it out of my brain,” you lie smoothly, “And did you know that Jacques De Vay-,” you check the spelling written on your hand, turning away from Dirk, “-Vaucanson was one of the first inventors to build a robot?”_  
  
_"I didn’t. I’m impressed, English.”_  
  
_“Yeah?” it’s too hot to be legal, but you manage, sitting up to look at him._

_He doesn’t turn to you, but the corner of his lips flick up slightly. “Yeah.”_  
  
_Sitting back, pleased, you close your eyes, giving in to the temptation of heat-induced sleep._

_"Jake?”_

_You hum sleepily in response._

_“Make your writing smaller next time.”_

_“Oops.”_  
  
_He snorts, sounding tired, but entertained. “Dork.”_

_“But Dirk,” you counter jokingly, “I’m your dork.”_

_He doesn’t reply for a beat, but when he does, it’s muffled. “It seems so.”_

_You hold your breath, waiting for something else, but after a minute, all you hear are soft snores. Disappointed, you let sleep overtake you._

* * *

You shake your head to clear it, and wait for a red light to pull out your phone. When the person on the other line picks up, you cut them off before they can speak. “I’m coming over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the everyone who leaves kudos and comments and questions. You guys really make my day. You don't have to go the extra mile, but you do, so thank you. <3
> 
> P.S. Who's Jake going to go see?? Stay tuned, Folks!

**Author's Note:**

> <3


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